Crazy
by happyferret13
Summary: My friends think I'm crazy. Everyone does. And I guess I am, a little. It'd drive you mad, too. I remember it so clearly. It had to have happened. I explain it to them over and over again, and I swear it's all true, but they won't believe me. Maybe you will.


And, here you have it, _another _Doctor Who story. This one's a little... unorthodox. It's different. But different is _cool! _Enjoy! =D

My friends think I'm crazy. Everyone does. And I guess I am, a little. It'd drive you mad, too. I remember it so clearly. It had to have happened. It was too vivid to be a dream. They all say it was some sort of wish fulfillment thing, like a dream or something. But it happened. I explain it to them over and over again, and I swear it's all true, but they won't believe me. Maybe you will.

It was a normal day. Most days are normal for me. I guess I'm just that sort of person. Anyway, I was at work – this four-story office building overflowing with cubicles. Nothing much was happening. I was finishing up a report. It was almost lunch time, and I was eyeing the clock impatiently as time ticked slowly by. It was a nice, warm day, and my friend Charlie's got this food truck over in the park, so I was going to get a hotdog or two from him for lunch. I was hungry, _starving, _even, and the longer I waited, pounding away at the report, the more anxious and irritated I was getting. Finally, it was just about lunch time – around a quarter to one – and all I had to do was run to the copier real quick before I was free. When I finally got to the copier, one of my coworkers – Frank, a real goody two-shoes – said it was busted. With a sigh, I speed-walked to the elevator, not wanting to waste any more time. It was a real pain, having to go up to the other copier. I'm on the first floor, and the second floor is all meeting rooms, so I had to go up to the third to use that copier.

Around halfway up to the third floor, the lights fizzed off. Panicking, I grabbed hold of the rails as the elevator rattled 'round slightly in place. And then it stopped, suddenly, and it didn't move no more after that. At first I was kind of relieved, because I thought the thing was gonna crash. But then I realized: I was still trapped in the thing. I shouted and banged on the doors, hoping someone would hear me. No one did, so I figured I'd have to do something crazy. There was a hatch at the top of the elevator, but I was too short to reach it. So I had to resort to prying the doors apart, which at first was pretty unsuccessful, but then I finally started to get it, and finally the doors pulled apart. I was maybe a foot below what I figured was the second floor. I squeezed my eyes shut and jumped, throwing my hands out in front of me to catch the ledge if I fell short. I didn't, and landed on my knees. I smiled, but then I noticed that the place was empty. And it wasn't the office. It was totally bizarre. The room was grungy, and the walls and floors appeared to be rock. It seemed cave-like. And it was completely empty, expect for a big blue box thing in the middle. Curiously and a bit scared, I walked over to it. And suddenly the door flung open and this guy came out – funny looking, with a jacket my grandfather wouldn't even touch and a dorky little bowtie and ridiculous hair. And then there was a girl behind him – young, just like the guy, but more modernly dressed and her hair styled normal.

"Who are you?" I asked him, scared. He smiled and stuck his hand. I shook it.

"The Doctor," he replied, and the girl, right behind him, without missing a beat, added:

"I'm Clara." I hmm-ed.

"I'm Otto," I stated, eyeing them suspiciously, wondering if he had a weapon on him or something like that. "Where am I?" I asked.

"Well, we should be – where did I say we were going? Oh, right! The planet of… of ice. This isn't it. Clearly. Where did you come from?" he rambled, and he seemed clumsy and childish, the way he stumbled over his thoughts, the way he trailed along like that.

"There." I pointed my thumb behind me at the elevator to show him. "I was at work and I got on an elevator and now I'm here." He went over to the elevator and pulled out a sticky-thing, and waved it at the elevator. It glowed green and made a sort of buzzing noise, not like any I'd heard before. He muttered something about this being bad, then turned back around to face me and the woman – Clara.

"Well, the good news is, I know how to get you home. The bad news is, it'll probably mess time up. A lot," he stated. I stared at the man in shock, my jaw hanging sort of open.

"What do you mean?" I stammered.

"It's all wibbly wobbly timey wimey," he said, and I stopped him before he could keep going. Seeing how he could run his mouth, we'd be there all day.

"Huh?" I said confusedly. He ignored me and started walking to the box, motioning for Clara to follow him.

"Did I tell you about what happened with the crack and my last companion?" he asked, and for a second I didn't understand. But my mind didn't have to wander for long before it occurred to me that the guy might be some weird sort of drug dealer. Suddenly, I felt more apprehensive about the man.

"No," Clara replied. He dropped his voice and whispered a few things to her, but I couldn't hear exactly what he said.

"Well, it's sort of like that," he said, raising his voice again.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

"It's almost like an alternate universe of sorts," he replied.

"An alternate universe?" There was awe in her voice, and I couldn't place why.

"Almost. These two time streams are parallel. They should never intersect. But they do, right here. It's like two train tracks. Well, it's nothing like that, really, but if it helps you picture it, then go ahead. It's like two train tracks. There's a version of him here, and a version of him on the other side. One of them has to die," he said.

"I'd like it if I didn't die!" I spoke up. He turned to face me.

"Then the other you dies and you're here forever," he stated bluntly.

"So you want me to kill myself? Huh? Is that it?" He nodded. "So, what do I do?"

"Jump down the elevator shaft?" Clara suggested.

"That'll work," the Doctor replied. But I didn't like the sound of that.

"I'm not doing that," I said firmly, holding my ground.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, and before I could ask why, he was picking me up. I kicked at him, but he kept an iron grip on me.

"NO!" I screamed. "Put me down!" He didn't listen, and with another sorry, he pushed me down the elevator shaft.

The next thing I knew, I was back on the elevator, riding up to the third floor. The elevator dinged, and I got out. It was the office once again, not that rocky place. It was as if it never happened. But it did. I swear.

And that's why everyone thinks I'm crazy. But I'm not, I swear. It's just a bit strange, or a lot strange, but it's all true. I remember someone said something about real life being weirder than fiction or something once. That guy's totally right. I'm not crazy. Only one person I've met believes me. My pal Charlie took me down to the hospital because he thought I'd gone crazy. I told the nurse about it, and he actually believed me. I don't remember much about him, but I'm pretty sure his name was Rory.

Reviews are greatly appreciated! =D


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